


The Ups and Downs of Being a Superhero Girlfriend

by cdybedahl



Category: Friends (TV)
Genre: F/F, spiderman!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 13:20:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18165707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cdybedahl/pseuds/cdybedahl
Summary: After some complications, Rachel finds out that Monica is not only Spidergirl, but also very interested in becoming her girlfriend.





	The Ups and Downs of Being a Superhero Girlfriend

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [the work don't stop ('cause they don't stop)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17900111) by [andfinallywearehome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andfinallywearehome/pseuds/andfinallywearehome). 



> This is a sequel to a story by andfinallywearehome.

## Talking about Spidergirl

Without ever actually deciding to, Rachel and Monica end up keeping their new relationship quiet. It’s just the path of least resistance. Chandler figures it out the moment he learns that the two of them are no longer fighting, and Phoebe thought they were together all along. Joey would be very approving, Rachel knows, but that approval would come with a lot of leering and lewd commentary. Which she would rather not have. Neither, it seems, would Monica. And Ross is, well, Ross. He used to be hung up on Rachel. Who knows how he’d react to learning that she’s sleeping with his sister? Better not prod the ticking time bomb. It’s not like it’s hard to hide. They were already living together, and they’ve always been kind of touchy with each other. And possibly that should have been a hint to Rachel herself long ago. In any case, the only real outwardly visible difference is that Rachel’s bed is gone, and Monica’s has been switched for a king size. Most other things are just as they used to be.

Including the six of them gathering at the Central Perk, Joey making lewd comments about Spidergirl, Ross joining in enthusiastically, and the rest of them awkwardly playing along so as not to reveal that Monica _is_ Spidergirl.

“That’s totally a D cup!” Joey says, gesturing agitatedly at the TV set that has become a staple of the Central Perk since Spidergirl got famous.

“Nah,” Ross says. “I don’t think so. They’re not that big. More like a B. A _generous_ B, but still a B.”

Phoebe tilts her head and looks at the screen.

“How can you tell?” she says. “All you can really see is a pretty blurry shape in a catsuit.”

“It’s the shape,” Ross says.

“From watching many, many women,” Joey says. “Trust me. We can tell.”

Ross smiles and nods along.

“So,” Rachel says, failing to resist the temptation. “Exactly how big do you think Spidergirl’s boobs are? Give me a number.”

“38D,” Joey says, with great certainty.

“No way,” Ross says. “32B. For sure.”

Neither of them are right, of course. Rachel knows this for a fact. She’s bought sexy underwear for her girlfriend.

“Well,” she says. “I guess you’ll never know who’s closest.”

“I bet Spidergirl’s great in the sack,” Ross says. “The way she bends and moves when she swings along is just...  _yowza_.”

Monica makes a strangled noise.

“Oh my God!” Chandler says. “Please stop. You can’t...! Just please stop!”

“Hey!” Joey says. “What’s the problem? Don’t you think Spidergirl is sexy?”

Rachel can’t help herself.

“Yeah, Chandler,” she says. “Don’t you think Spidergirl is sexy?”

He gives her a brief but withering look.

“I’m not having this conversation,” he says.

“I think she’s _scrumptious_ ,” Rachel says. “If I had the chance, I’d lick her _all over_.”

Joey gives her his most lewdly satisfied grin.

“Really?” he drawls.

“Wow,” Ross says, staring at her. “I didn’t know you felt... that way.”

“Well, you don’t usually know when women like other women, do you?” Chandler interjects, derailing the conversation onto the evergreen topic of Ross’ lesbian ex-wife.

Later that night, Rachel has her chance, and eagerly takes it. Repeatedly. At one point, while she’s coming down from a mind-blowing orgasm, a little voice at the back of her mind notes that Ross was actually right.

* * *

## Domestic Life

Spidergirl heals very fast. A nasty slash with a knife that’d land an ordinary person in hospital to get many stitches and probably a blood transfusion, can be taken care of with some iodine, surgical tape and a good night’s sleep. Rachel is grateful for that. She’d be a lot more worried about her girlfriend’s heroic activities than she is if not for the accelerated healing.

But sometimes she wishes the superpower extended to Spidergirl’s costume.

The horrible short woman with the weird flat cap stares down into Rachel’s cart.

“What the Hell is that?” she says.

Rachel looks down. At a Spidergirl costume. With a large slash down the left arm. And enough dried blood on it that the arm stands out like a tube, and the chest is leaning against the side of the cart like a board. She curses internally. Externally, she smiles.

“Oh, it’s for a costume party,” she says. “It belongs to my girlfriend.”

She likes saying that. _My girlfriend_. It makes her feel special. Also, she’s still a bit giddy that she’s managed to catch someone as hot as Monica, and she wants to brag about it a bit.

“What’s she going as?” the horrible woman says. “The corpse of Spidergirl?”

That’s actually a better excuse than any Rachel has been able to think of in the past few seconds.

“Well, zombie Spidergirl,” she says.

The horrible woman stares down at the costume.

“That blood looks very realistic,” she says.

“We have a friend who’s in special effects,” Rachels makes up. “You know, for movies.”

“I’ve worked as a bouncer,” the horrible woman says. “I know dried blood when I see it. And that’s dried blood.”

“Well, obviously it has to look realistic,” Rachel says. “That’s the whole point.”

She picks the costume up to put it into the washer, and immediately realises her mistake. The horrible, and apparently eagle-eyed, woman stares at the costume.

“Are those bulletproof inserts?” she says, pointing.

They are indeed bulletproof inserts. They’re Rachel’s idea. They’re not sure if Monica’s healing powers would deal with a bullet to the chest, so she suggested that they sew a bulletproof vest into the costume. Monica had happily gone along with it. She might be able to nearly shrug off stabbings and slashes, but that didn’t mean they didn’t _hurt_. A layer of Kevlar between her skin and the blades was welcome.

But, as the blood-stiff costume in Rachel’s hands illustrated, it only covered the chest.

“No?” Rachel tries.

“They are so bulletproof inserts,” the horrible woman says. “I know the brand. Why would you have those in a costume for a party?”

Rachel forces a laugh.

“For realism, obviously,” she says. “I mean, Spidergirl has to have something like, right? Or she’d lose to the first bozo with a gun to come along? So we figured we’d put in something that looks like it’d be bulletproof.”

“I thought the costume was dead Spidergirl,” the horrible woman says.

“Well, she didn’t make the costume for being dead, now did she?” Rachel says through clenched teeth.

She starts pulling the ceramic inserts out of their Kevlar pockets. The horrible woman stares at her.

“There’s something deeply wrong with you and your friends,” she says.

“Well, I don’t like you either!” Rachel says.

The horrible woman moves away to take care of her own laundry. She and Rachel keeps giving each other hostile looks for the entire rest of the time they’re at the laundromat.

* * *

## Sex In Odd Places

It’s Phoebe’s fault. If she hadn’t put ideas into Rachel’s head, Rachel wouldn’t be where she is. She’d be at home, with Monica, in her own bed. Possibly wearing the fuzzy handcuffs they’d found in the guest room closet.

Cool wind caresses her naked skin. The steel behind her has warmed where her body touches it, and no longer feels cold. To her left and her right, light frames large triangular windows. There are two more above her, and then there is just the steel spire stretching into the night’s darkness.

She and Phoebe had been out shopping. Rachel needed new work shoes that didn’t make her feet hurt. Phoebe was looking for a toaster with slots for three slices of bread exactly (“Why not just get one with four spaces?” “I always want three slices, so I’d feel bad for the one that didn’t get to fulfil its purpose”). They’d been walking around for a couple of hours, neither of them finding what they were after, when Phoebe just asked out of the blue.

“Now that you and Monica are dating, you guys have sex, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Rachel had answered, taken aback.

“So I was wondering something, what with her being Spidergirl and all,” Phoebe said.

Monica’s hands are caressing the insides of Rachel’s thighs. She can feel Monica’s breath against the very sensitive skin right at the top. From far below, sounds of cars and people drift up to them. The whole of Manhattan stretches out before her. The view is _amazing_. She lets out a loud moan when Monica’s tongue finds its way in between her labia. She can’t believe that they’re actually doing this.

“What about her being Spidergirl?” Rachel had asked, fearing something about possibly weird body parts.

“Does she ever, like, take you up somewhere really high, web you to the side of the building, strip you naked and eat you out while you behold the city before you like an ancient goddess from atop an Akkadian ziggurat?”

Rachel stared at her.

“No,” she’d finally said. “No, she doesn’t do that.”

“OK,” Phoebe said. “I was just wondering.”

Later that night, she mentioned it to Monica. Monica grinned at her.

“Is the Chrysler building tall enough for you?”

Monica’s fingers slide up inside Rachel, rub her G-spot, pull back out. Repeat, again and again, while soft lips and an eager tongue play with her clitoris. Rachel is screaming out into the night air a thousand feet above the streets, not even trying to keep silent. She’s trying to wriggle, to move, to get more contact, harder. But the webs holding her to the building’s steel surface feel just as unyielding as the surface itself. She’s stuck there, waves of pleasure rippling through her. Usually when they make love, she closes her eyes to focus more on what she’s feeling. But not today. Today, she keeps her eyes wide open. The combination of the view, the exposure to the elements, the sexual ecstasy is kind of blowing her mind. It’s hard not to wonder, in the few moments when she can think at all, if this really is how an ancient goddess would have felt. A climax rips through Rachel, followed by another, and another. The view dissolves into tears. She’s not sure if from a surfeit of emotion, or just from the wind. In any case, Monica finally stops. She climbs up so her face is level with Rachel’s.

“Are you OK?” she asks.

Rachel nods, unable to talk. Monica is wearing everyday clothes instead of her Spidergirl costume. Her hands and feet are bare, and stick impossibly to the steel surface. She doesn’t appear to mind in the least that almost nothing stands between her and a plummet to the far-below street.

“Did you enjoy it?” she asks.

“God, yes!” Rachel groans.

Monica strokes her cheek, smiling.

“Good,” she says. “Do you want to do me?”

She places a soft kiss on the tip of Rachel’s nose.

“It’s totally OK if you say no,” she says. “We can go home and continue in bed.”

Rachel shakes her head. She doubts that it feels anywhere near the same to Monica to be up here as it does to her, but she wants to at least try to give her beloved the same amazing experience that she just had herself.

“Although I can’t cling to the wall like you do,” she says, “so you’ll have to do the positioning. And hold on.”

“No problem.”

Monica unbuttons her jeans, and takes them off. For a, to Rachel, panic-inducing moment she’s hanging on by nothing except her fingertips. She webs the jeans to the wall next to Rachel’s clothes, and puts both hands and feet back on the wall. She scampers up, and for a moment the similarity to the way a spider moves is uncanny. She stops, her torso sticking straight out at a right angle from the wall, facing down. Her crotch is just in front of Rachel’s face.

“Is that OK?” she asks.

Rachel didn’t pay that much attention in physics class, but she’s pretty sure that what Monica’s doing isn’t supposed to be possible.

“No,” she says. “Your pussy is several inches away!”

Monica laughs.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she says.

She lowers herself onto Rachel’s mouth. For some time, Rachel doesn’t care at all about heights or views.

* * *

## Wanting To Help

“I think I should come with you tonight,” Rachel says.

She’s dusting shelves, carefully putting each item back _exactly_ where she picked it up from. Monica is cleaning the back of the refrigerator. With q-tips and her own home-made cleaning solution. She sticks her head out from behind it.

“What?” she says.

“Tonight,” Rachel says, not looking at her. “I should come with you. When you go out on patrol.”

“How?” Monica says. “I mean, when I’m out to fight bad people I can’t really carry you along. And when I’m swinging from building to building, you can’t really keep up.”

“I could keep up most of the time,” Rachel says. “On my motorcycle.”

There is a long silence, during which Rachel carefully wipes down several tiny glass statues with her dust cloth.

“On your what?” Monica finally says.

Rachel turns around.

“Did I not mention that? There was this woman at the Central Perk who wanted to get rid of a motorcycle that her ex left behind. I got it for a hundred bucks. It’s awesome.”

Monica comes out from behind the fridge.

“I really hope you have proper gear for it,” she says. “Helmet and leathers and stuff.”

Rachel nods.

“I’m trying to come up with a good design for the artwork,” she says.

“What artwork?” Monica says.

“Well, I have to match your spider motif, don’t I?” Rachel says. “So people can tell I’m your sidekick.”

“Excuse me? That you’re my what now?”

Rachel involuntarily takes a step back and bangs into the shelf she’s been dusting.

“OK, hear me out before you bite my head off,” she says. “I’m not going to be swinging around buildings or fighting criminals with you. I’m thinking that I follow you around, contact the police about bad guys you leave behind, get you something to eat in the middle of the night, take a few pictures for your fan site, maybe administer a bit of first aid when needed, that sort of thing.”

Monica’s expression softens.

“It’s still dangerous,” she says.

“My motorcycle gear is stuff dad bought me before I... came here,” Rachel says. “It’s all made from fancy high-tech stuff that’s supposed to protect you if you fall off at a hundred miles an hour. It should be good for a few blows. Also, I plan to carry pepper spray and a stun gun.”

Monica’s expression softens further. She even smiles.

“So Spidergirl is getting a sidekick, huh?” she says.

Rachel nods.

“I think she’s called Butterfly,” she says. “You know, keeping the insect theme.”

“Spiders are arachnids, not insects,” Monica says. “Also, don’t butterflies basically exist to eat and have sex?”

Rachel smiles at her, walks closer with swaying hips and places a hand on her hip.

“Would that be a problem for you?” she says.

A blush is starting to appear on Monica’s face. Rachel has seen it quite a few times, since they started having sex with each other.

“I guess not,” Monica says. “Although at least one of us needs to make a living.”

Rachel bends forward and nibbles gently on Monica’s earlobe.

“I’m sure we can deal,” she whispers, making sure that her breath caresses Monica’s skin.

She feels a shiver go through Monica.

“Ok, that’s it,” Monica says. “Bedroom, now!”

“Your sidekick hears and obeys,” Rachel says.

She’s not fast enough to dodge Spidergirl’s slap to her ass as she sprints to the bedroom.

* * *

## Everything Is Weird

Central Perk, again. Monica and Rachel are cuddled up together in the couch, Phoebe is in the armchair. On the table are coffee cups and cookies. On the TV, a news broadcast is showing images from earlier in the day of Spidergirl taking down a gang of superpowered bankrobbers.

“Oh, there’s me!” Rachel squeals, pointing at the TV. “There’s Butterfly!”

Indeed, in the corner of the picture a figure on a motorcycle can be seen, totally covered in bulky black leather and a black helmet with its visor closed. The motorcycle, the leathers and the helmet have been painted to give an impression of electric blue wings.

“Yes, sweetie, there you are,” Monica says, stroking Rachel’s hair. “The news don’t seem to have picked up on you yet, though. At least they didn’t comment.”

Rachel shrugs.

“They will, in time,” she says.

“I like how you super-people are coming out into the open more,” Phoebe says. “It makes this world more interesting.”

“What do you mean come out into the open?” Monica says. “There didn’t use to be any super-people.”

“Yeah, right,” Phoebe says in her incredibly condescending tone. “As far as _you_ knew.”

Monica and Rachel give each other a look, but before either of them can say something, Phoebe is pointing at the TV.

“Oh, look!” she says. “I know her!”

Monica and Rachel turn to the TV. On it, the news anchor and two alleged experts are talking about the assumed leader of the gang of bankrobbers. They have a security camera picture of her. She’s tall, slender and blonde. They say she’s been arrested several times, but always escaped before they could even get her to a holding cell. Twice, she got loose because the guard watching her suddenly had a heart attack and died.

“From your time on the streets?” Rachel asks.

Phoebe snorts.

“Yeah, right,” she says. “Like someone like her would ever end up on the streets. No, she’s from the same planet as my mom.”

Monica and Rachel both look at Phoebe. Then they look at each other. Then they look at Phoebe again.

“She’s what now?” Monica says.

“She comes from the same planet my mom came from,” Phoebe says.

“Oh, I mean the mom who raised me,” she clarifies. “The one who killed herself. Not the one who abandoned me, or the one who will arrive from the future to claim me when the stars are right.”

Monica and Rachel keep staring at her.

“So...” Rachel says. “Your mom was an alien?”

“Totally,” Phoebe says. “That’s why I can do this.”

She stares at the table with a frown of concentration. A muffin lifts into the air, and flies to Phoebe’s mouth. She takes a bite, then the muffin flies back to its plate.

Monica and Rachel stare. For a _long_ time.

“Right,” Rachel finally says. “So that happened.”

“Have you always been able to do that?” Monica says.

Phoebe nods.

“Pretty much,” she says. “Inherited the ability from my mother.”

“Your alien mother,” Monica says. “Your alien _adoptive_ mother.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s more complicated than that,” Phoebe says. “I just say adoptive because it’s the closest thing that you Earthlings can understand.”

Rachel bursts out in laughter.

“Well!” she says. “That makes sense! Doesn’t it, Mon? It’s the closest thing we Earthlings can understand!”

She gives Monica an overly enthusiastic slap on the thigh. Monica doesn’t react.

“So...” Monica says. “You’re an... alien? From space.”

“Half-alien,” Phoebe says. “I’m pretty sure my dad was from Schenectady.”

She grins.

“It’s so nice to be able to _tell_ you guys!” she says. “It used to be that I had to kill people if they found out!”

Monica’s eyebrows rise.

“Kill people?” she says.

Phoebe nods.

“It’s real easy,” she says. “You just use your telekinesis to clamp the atrioventricular valves shut for a minute or so. Totally looks like a heart attack to the medical examiner.”

Monica is just about to say something when Rachel slaps a hand over her mouth.

“Whatever you were about to ask,” Rachel says. “First think about if you _really_ want to know the answer.”

Monica’s eyes swivel to look into Rachel’s. After a moment, she nods. Rachel removes her hand.

“So,” Monica says. “What about Ursula, then?”

“Oh, you’re totally not ready for _that_ one,” Phoebe says.

* * *

## Captured by a Supervillain

“You won’t get away with this!”

Rachel pulls in vain on the chains holding her hands to a spar on the frame holding up the rooftop water tank. She glares angrily at the woman standing a handful of yards away. That woman is about Rachel’s own age, wears a lab coat and has four robotic tentacles sticking out of her back. Tentacles that she’s sort of standing on, so her entire body is suspended a foot or so above the concrete roof. For some reason, she’s also wearing aviator’s goggles. In the middle of the night. Although maybe it’s protection against the very bright light from the floodlight on the police helicopter hovering above them. The villain is holding Rachel’s Butterfly helmet, and casually looking it over.

“So you’re Spidergirl’s sidekick,” she says. “You don’t seem to have any powers of your own.”

“If I did, I’d be a superhero rather than a sidekick!” Rachel says. “Now let me go! I’m not your enemy!”

The woman drops the helmet. It bounces twice and comes to rest almost at Rachel’s booted feet.

“Indeed not,” she says. “But I, Doctor Octopus, _am_ Spidergirl’s enemy, and I think you’ll do very well as bait to lure her here.”

A chill goes down Rachel’s spine.

“Noooo,” she says. “Spidergirl doesn’t care about me. She hardly knows I’m alive. She won’t bother to come here just for me. She has better things to do.”

“Like?” Doctor Octopus says, tilting her head and looking at Rachel as if she’s a particularly interesting lab specimen.

Rachel can’t think of anything to say. Doctor Octopus smiles at her.

“I thought as much,” she says.

One of the metal tentacles lifts from the surface and reaches out for Rachel. As it comes close, she can see that it has extensible fine manipulators at the end. Fine manipulators which extend, grab the tab of her motorcycle jacket’s zipper and pulls it all the way down. Her worn old Spice Girls t-shirt comes into view.

“Hey!” Rachel says. “None of that stuff!”

The tentacle pokes her squarely between the boobs.

“Now,” Doctor Octopus says. “What I want you to do is to scream. Loud and panicy, so Spidergirl comes rushing in without thinking too much ahead. Can you do that?”

The doctor moves closer so fast that Rachel involuntarily turns her face away and yelps loudly.

“Or,” she says, “will I have to _motivate_ you to?”

Rachel nervously licks her lips.

“When you say scream,” she says. “What exactly do you mean? Would it be something like this...”

She breaks out into an old cheer from her head cheerleader days. Doctor Octopus actually waits until she’s done with it.

“No,” she says. “That’s not it.”

The tentacle pushes harder into her breastbone. It is starting to hurt quite a bit.

“If I may ask,” Rachel says through clenched teeth. “What are you going to do when Spidergirl comes here?”

“I’m going to kill her,” Doctor Octopus says. “It’s not very complicated.”

“Yes, of course,” Rachel says. “But how? I mean, you’ve fought her several times already, and she’s always kicked your ass. So what makes you think that you’ll succeed this time, when she’ll also be, well, let’s be honest, mildly peeved that you’ve killed me?”

“Ah,” Doctor Octopus says. “But this time I have an advantage! I’ll lure her to a place I have prepared! All I have to do is maneuver her in front of that machine--”

She gestures at a huge thing nearby that Rachel has assumed was some kind of construction equipment. Probably a tunnel drill. Or something like that. She had wondered what it was doing on a Brooklyn rooftop.

“--over there, fire it, and she’ll be paralyzed for several hours! I’ll be able to do whatever I want to her!”

She breaks out in a maniacal laughter. Head thrown back and all. Right in the middle of it, the tunnel drill or whatever it is spins to life. Rachel tries real hard not to look at it, since Doctor Octopus obviously hasn’t picked up on it yet. Lights light up here and there on the machine. It starts making a whining sound. That is apparently enough to get Doctor Octopus’ attention.

“What?” she says, turning her head to look.

She gets the bolt of brilliant green energy right in the face. For a split second, an expression of utter chock and surprise crosses her face. Then she drops like a puppet with its strings cut.

“Ha!” someone yells from the back of the machine. “Take that, bitch!”

“Mon... Spidergirl?” Rachel shouts. “Is that you?”

Spidergirl comes tumbling out of the darkness, and finally lands on her feet right in front of Rachel.

“Of course it’s me,” she says. “Who else would it be?”

Rachel slumps a bit in relief.

“It’s so good to see you, sweetie,” she says. “Get me out of these chains, please?”

Monica reaches up and easily tears the chains, releasing Rachel.

“How did you know to do that?” Rachel says. “Use the machine, I mean?”

Monica gestures at the dropped helmet.

“The radio thingy you insisted on so we can talk to each other,” she says. “It turned on when she dropped the helmet. I heard pretty much everything she said after that.”

“Oh,” Rachel says.

She looks at Monica, then at the unconscious villain, then at Monica again.

“So I didn’t just delay her?” she says. “I actually helped beat her?”

Monica laughs.

“Yes, dear, you did,” she says.

Rachel throws her arms around Monica’s neck, urgently pulls her mask up far enough to reveal her mouth and kisses her passionately.

“I’m so happy to be alive,” she says. “And it’s making me _really_ horny. Can we drop the bitch off with the police and go home to our own bed?”

Monica looks deeply into her eyes.

“Yeah,” she says. “Let’s do that.”

* * *

## Being Found Out

The next day they discover that it wasn’t just a police helicopter hovering above them. There was a news one too. And it took pictures. With a powerful telephoto lens. Of a readily recognizable Rachel kissing an even more recognizable Spidergirl. The picture is right there, taking up half the front page of the morning paper. Under a headline that in huge letters spells out “SPIDERGIRL AND BUMBLEBEE: LESBIAN LOVERS!”

“I think we’re out,” Monica says.

She’s in her dressing gown, distracted from making breakfast.

“I think _I’m_ out,” Rachel says. “That’s me kissing Spidergirl, not me kissing Monica Geller. You’re in the clear. And they didn’t even get my sidekick name right.”

She’s standing next to Monica, looking at the same newspaper, wearing nothing but an oversize t-shirt. Before either of them can get another word out, the apartment door bursts open. Joey comes running in, followed by a sedately ambling Chandler.

“Wha...! Huh! Er-hah!” Joey says, while gesturing wildly at the newspaper he’s waving at them.

“What my esteemed roommate is saying,” Chandler sighs, “is, I belive, ‘what the Hell, Rachel?’”

She looks at Joey, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” she says. “I told you guys that if I got the chance I’d lick her all over.”

Joey stares at her with saucer-wide eyes.

“ _All over?!_ ” he squeals.

Rachel stifles a sigh. It’s going to be a long day.

After breakfast, her mother calls.

“I saw you on the news!” is the first thing she says when Rachel answers the phone.

“Hi, mom,” Rachel says. “That wasn’t really meant to happen.”

“Are you happy with her, dear? She does have kind of an unusual job.”

Rachel actually thinks about her answer.

“Yeah, mom,” she says. “I really am.”

“Oh, good.”

There is a hesitant pause.

“You know,” her mother says. “I loved a girl once. But I never had the courage to do anything about it. I’m so glad that you do. I so hope it turns out well for you.”

Rachel has no idea what to say to that.

“What is this?!” her father says when he calls. “Are you a dyke now? Is this some kind of protest? Did I not pay you enough attention?”

“Hi, dad,” Rachel says. “No, it’s not some kind of protest. No, it’s not your fault. It’s not a fault at all.”

“And what kind of job is it, running around in a unitard fighting criminals? How does that make a living?”

She stops trying to respond somewhere around there. He goes on for quite some time about how unfair to him it is that his daughter has chosen such a strange life. Pretty soon she also stops listening.

“Oh em gee that was _so_ embarrassing seeing you on the TV making out with that spider woman like that I was like totally mortified but Janelle and Shay said that it was totally cool that you guys are so open about it so now I’m going to become a lesbian and date someone famous too although I don’t really want to have sex with women so can you be a lesbian and still date guys and who should I date who is famous and I was thinking maybe Halle Berry what do you think and I’m pretty sure she’s into whatever because of that movie where she wore all that leather which my boyfriend thought was totally hot and--”

“Hi, Amy.”

“When dad murders your gay ass, can I have your stuff?”

“Goodbye, Jill.”

At work, people keep looking at her and whispering. It’s really irritating, until two women older than her ask for her autograph and tells her that they’re really impressed by what she and Spidergirl does. Both the fighting crime and the being out about their relationship. After that, Rachel finds it hard to be in a bad mood. She’s mildly famous. She’s a _role model_. It’s kind of a childhood fantasy come true, even if in a weird and unexpected way.

“I think I like being out,” Rachel says late that evening.

She and Monica are sitting on the edge of a rooftop near the Central Perk. Monica is wearing her full Spidergirl costume, mask and all. Rachel is wearing her Butterfly costume, without the helmet. Or maybe it’s her Bumblebee costume. She’s considering just going with that name. There’s probably no point in trying to correct the media anyway. At least not without giving an interview. Which she doesn’t want to do. Unless it is Oprah.

“Good,” Monica says. “Because I don’t think you can actually back out of that.”

She puts her arm around Rachel’s shoulders. Rachel leans her head against Monica’s.

“How are you feeling about your family?” Monica says. “I only heard your half of the calls, but it sounded ...less than optimal.”

Rachel shrugs, as well as she can given her position.

“It was more or less what I expected,” she said. “Except my mom saying she’s probably bi too. That was a bit of a surprise.”

“I don’t know what my parents would say if they found out about me,” Monica says. “Except that they’d somehow manage to make it be all about Ross.”

“Does he know?” Rachel says. “Ross, I mean?”

“No idea,” Monica says. “Probably not, given that he hasn’t stormed in on us being all insane about it.”

In the distance, an alarm goes off.

“Time to go to work,” Monica says.

Rachel sits up and reaches for her helmet.

“Get going,” she says. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Monica gives her a quick kiss, then she jumps off the roof and swings away. Rachel can’t help looking at her, admiring her wonderfully lithe tights-clad body as she vanishes into the night. She shakes her head.

“Get a grip, Green,” she mumbles to herself as she starts climbing down to her motorcycle.

* * *

## Being Found Out (Again)

The next day is a Saturday, and it’s when Ross finds out. He comes bursting into the apartment without knocking, coat unbuttoned and hair on end.

“Rachel’s dating _Spidergirl_?” he shouts. “And I have to find out from the _news_?!”

Saturday morning means neither Monica nor Rachel has to work. So they’re taking the opportunity for what they thought would be some alone time. They’re both on the living room couch. Rachel is sitting up, totally naked. Monica is straddling her, just as naked. Monica’s left nipple is in Rachel’s mouth, and Monica’s right hand is between Rachel’s legs. When Ross bursts in, they both freeze. For a few seconds, it’s like everything is standing still, waiting for something to happen. Then several things happen at once. Ross seems to realize that he’s looking at his naked sister, and slaps a hand over his eyes. Monica shoots a web strand across the room and pulls a dressing gown close, giving it to Rachel at the same time as she stands up. Rachel, without spider reflexes, just tries to cover herself with her hands.

“ _Ross_!” the two of them shout.

“Oh my God!” Ross shouts. “What are you _doing_?”

Monica stands up. She makes no attempt to hide ner nakedness. Rachel can’t not look. She’s just so beautiful.

“Ross, if you don’t know that, I understand why Susan needed a change,” Monica says.

He lowers his hand, sees Monica, and hastily puts it back again.

“I can see you,” he says. “Like, _all_ of you!”

“Well, if you hadn’t barged in here, you wouldn’t have that problem.”

Rachel pulls the dressing gown on and ties it shut.

“Why are you here, Ross?” she says.

He points in her general direction with the hand he’s not using to cover his eyes.

“You...!” he says. “You’re dating Spidergirl!”

“I am,” Rachel says.

“Oh, this is stupid,” Monica says.

She pulls her own dressing gown close and puts it on.

“You can look now,” she says.

Ross gingerly lowers his hand, obviously ready to put it back. When he sees the two of them are covered, he relaxes a little. Then he frowns.

“Wait,” he says. “You two were... you were! Like... that!”

He gestures vaguely at the two of them.

“Yes?” Monica says.

“We were having sex,” Rachel says. “That’s what you’re trying to say, right?”

“Yes!” he says. “You were having sex! With each other!”

Something obviously connects in his head, because he suddenly starts gesturing wildly at Rachel.

“You are _cheating_ on Spidergirl!” he shouts. “Oh my God!”

Monica hides her face in her hand.

“Oh God,” she says. “I don’t believe this.”

Rachel tries not to burst out laughing.

“Well, I guess you’d better tell her,” she says.

“And with your roommate!” he continues, clearly not listening.

He strides further into the room.

“You’ve been friends forever!” he says. “You sleep in beds that are literally only a few feet apart!”

He gestures at the open doors to the two side rooms. Then he actually looks at them, and makes a double take.

“Rachel?” he says. “Why is there no bed in your room?”

He looks again. Frowns.

“And why is there a king size bed in Monica’s room?”

He looks at Monica.

“You didn’t use to have a king size?” he says.

Rachel looks at Monica.

“Should we tell him?” she says. “It doesn’t look like he’s going to get it on his own.”

“I guess he won’t,” Monica says.

She turns to Ross.

“We’re together,” she says. “Girlfriends. We only have the one, large, bed, because we both sleep in it. And, as you could see when you barged in on us, we have sex.”

“A lot of sex,” Rachel clarifies. “Not always in the bed.”

Ross blinks.

“Oh-kay,” he says. “But... what about Spidergirl? You were kissing Spidergirl. On TV!”

“Also true,” Rachel says.

“So you are cheating on her!”

“I am not.”

Ross frowns in confusion.

“So you’re not dating Spidergirl? You just _happened_ to kiss her on TV?”

“I am dating Spidergirl,” Rachel says.

“So you’re cheating on Monica?”

“No, she’s not,” Monica says. “She’s not cheating on anybody.”

Ross looks at them.

“I don’t get it,” he says.

Rachel smiles. It may be a bit condescending.

“Let me spell it out for you,” she says. “I’m in a relationship with Monica. I’m in a relationship with Spidergirl. I’m only in a relationship with one woman.”

“Spidergirl is not a woman?” Ross says.

Monica throws up her hands.

“Oh my God!” she says. “How can you be this stupid? You managed to get a PhD, for fuck’s sake!”

Rachel frowns at him.

“Yeah,” she says. “You really can’t work that one out? Seriously?”

Ross looks confused.

“I don’t get it,” he says. “What are you saying?”

“I’m dating Monica,” Rachel says. “I’m dating Spidergirl. I’m dating _one_ woman.”

Ross looks even more confused.

“Monica,” Rachel says. “Spidergirl. One.”

She shakes her head at him.

“Seriously?” she says. “You’re not getting it?”

“No!” Ross says. “You’re not making any sense!”

“Oh come on!” Monica says, throwing her hands out. “I’m Spidergirl!”

Ross stares at her for a while. Then he smiles. Then he comes out with a thin, nervous laughter.

“Nooo,” he says. “Spidergirl’s a cool, awesome superhero. You’re ... _Monica_.”

Monica glares at him. She lifts her hand and shoots a piece of web straight at his mouth, effectively taping it shut. Rachel has looked close when Monica shoots her webs. Tiny little holes open in her skin and the web stuff comes shooting out at insane speed. It’s kind of creepy, really.

“Do you believe me now,” Monica says, “or do I have to web you to the ceiling?”

Ross stares at her with an expression of utter shock. He claws at the web covering his mouth, and after a few tries he gets it off.

“ _You’re Spidergirl?!_ ” he shouts. “That’s... What...? _How_?”

“Finally!” Rachel says.

She puts her arm over Monica’s shoulders.

“See?” she says. “No cheating. Just one really awesome girlfriend.”

Ross flumps down on a kitchen chair.

“ _How_?” he repeats. “I mean... did you just wake one morning and you had superpowers?”

“At the restaurant,” Monica says. “There’s a drug lab next door. They make designer drugs. A while ago I got bit by a spider while getting supplies out of the storage space we share with them. The spider must’ve eaten some weird thing from the lab, because I hallucinated the whole night and in the morning I could stick to the ceiling.”

“This is amazing!” Ross says. “Does mom and dad know?”

“God, no,” Monica says. “Only Rachel, Chandler, Phoebe and now you.”

“Of course, the whole world knows I’m Butterfly,” Rachel says.

Rachel frowns.

“I thought it was Bumblebee?” he says.

Rachel glares at him.

“Leave,” she says. “Now. We got some fucking to do.”

* * *

## Sex In Odd Places (Again)

On the huge monitor, the recording of Doctor Octopus leans into the camera again.

“Listen carefully, New York City,” she says. “Unless a hundred million dollars are wired into my offshore account before sunrise, my Mutant-o-mat will bathe the whole city with mutating rays. Every single person in the whole city will be randomly changed into ...something else.”

She grins widely.

“And if you’re trusting that your hero Spidergirl will save, she’s securely tied to the inside of the Mutant-o-mat. When the machine fires, she will be first to be hit, she and her stupid sidekick. They won’t save you.”

She throws her head back and laughs manically.

Normally, Rachel would object to being called stupid. But at the moment it feels appropriate. She and Monica did walk into Doctor Octopus’ trap, and now they’re imprisoned. They’re in a segment of steel-clad corridor, maybe ten feet wide, ten high and fifty long. On one end is a steel protrusion that looks disturbingly like a muzzle for something. At the other end is a five-foot diameter Fresnel lens. And in them middle is Monica, chained spread-eagle across the corridor, right in the path of whatever is going to fire out of of the muzzle-like thing. The chains holding her in the air are very thick, and not even spider strength has been able to break them. Spidergirl is well and truly stuck in someone else’s web.

Rachel, on the other hand, is not even tied up. It feels like a deliberate insult. If so, it’s a pretty good one, because so far she’s been totally unable to change the situation in any way.

“Any ideas?” she says.

Monica pulls some more at her bonds.

“Yeah, try to get out of here so we don’t _both_ die,” Monica says.

“If there’s a door, I can’t even find where it is,” Rachel says. “Also, there is no way I’m leaving you.”

Monica slumps a bit.

“This is not how I thought it would all end,” she says.

Even though Rachel doesn’t want to admit it, the situation is looking rather end-like.

“All right, then,” she says. “How do you want to spend our last hour together?”

Monica looks at her.

“What?” she says.

Rachel raises an eyebrow at her.

“You’re not getting loose,” she says. “We’re not getting out of here. In a bit under an hour, the sun will rise and, according to that irritating recording, the weapon we’re stuck inside will fire. Presumably killing us, like, a lot. So what do you want to do until then?”

Monica seems to think it over.

“The options are a bit limited,” she says.

“Yes,” Rachel admits. “But not entirely nonexistent.”

She slowly runs a finger up the inside of Monica’s spider-suited thigh.

Monica bursts out in a brief shocked laugh.

“You want to have sex?!” she says. “Now?!”

“Hey,” Rachel says. “If I can’t avoid getting killed, dying while fucking my girlfriend is pretty much the second best option. Also...”

Her voice trails off.

“Yes?” Monica says.

“Unlike at home in our too-fragile-for-superstrength bed, this time _you_ can be the one tied up.”

Monica breaks out into genuine laughter.

“All right,” she says after she’s caught her breath. “Go ahead. Do what you want with me.”

Rachel moves her finger a little bit higher, and runs it along Monica’s pussy. She gets a gratifying yelp in return.

“I hope my pocket knife isn’t too dull to get your suit off,” she says, “after all the trying to get the manacles open.”

“Only one way to find out,” Monica gasps.

One almost certainly accidental advantage of the way Monica is restrained, is that it becomes relatively convenient for Rachel to eat her out. She bunches the cut-off spider-suit up under her own knees, and then she can just kneel in front of Monica and go to town on her. One arm around her thigh and holding on to her ass for support, and the other one busy between her legs. Rachel could make her girlfriend come very quickly from that a position, but where would the fun be in that? Instead, she aims to keep Monica at the very edge of orgasm for as long as she can. From above, Monica is ranting and cursing at her to let her come. Normally, Monica would long since have grabbed hold of Rachel’s head and more or less forced her to provide the desired climax. But today she can’t. She can only hang where she is and suffer Rachel’s erotic ministrations.

Monica’s muscles are tense as steel cables, and almost vibrating with Monica’s efforts to get the last little bit to her looming orgasm.

“ _Please_ Rachel!” Monica screams. “Pleasepleaseplease!”

Rachel relents. She curls her fingers inside Monica, putting more pressure on her G-spot at the same time as she sucks harder on her clitoris. Monica screams louder, tenses harder, and her orgasmic convulsions are, apparently, _just_ enough to break the limits of her steel bonds. The sound of tearing steel accompanies Monica’s screams. Suddenly, she’s no longer being held up by chains. She starts to fall back. Rachel frantically tries to hold on to her, to prevent her from falling head first to the steel floor. She more or less succeeds, ending up sitting astride her suddenly very relaxed girlfriend’s chest.

“Are you OK?” she asks.

“Fantastic,” Monica says. “I don’t remember ever coming that hard before.”

“How’s your head?” Rachel says. “I tried to break your fall, but it sounded like you hit pretty hard anyway.”

“It’s fine,” Monica says. “I’m pretty hard-headed.”

“And no longer chained up,” Rachel says. “Shall we look for a door together?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Rachel stands up. She’s just about to bend down and offer her hand to help Monica up when Doctor Octopus’ weapon fires and she gets the entire mutating ray right in the chest.

* * *

## Closing

Liberty Island spreads out beneath them. Monica sits on the right-hand side of Lady Liberty’s front crown spike, Rachel on the left. The water is a large darkness with the occasional spark of light. On the other side, the night lights of the city. A soft wind brings the smells of the night. Monica is in her Spidergirl costume, Rachel in her Butterfly one. Without the helmet.

“Is this our life now?” Rachel says.

“I’m afraid so,” Monica says.

“Cooking food and serving tables by day, fighting supervillains by night?”

“Until we figure out how to make fighting supervillains pay the rent.”

Rachel turned to Monica and smiled.

“Or figure out how to use our superpowers to make money,” she says.

“I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to go,” Monica says. “That’s what the villains do, after all.”

Rachel sighs.

“Yeah, I guess,” she says.

They sit in silence for a little while, watching the lights and feeling the breeze.

“I’ve never been up here,” Monica eventually says. “So thanks.”

“No problem,” Rachel says. “Least I could do after you’ve taken me to so many places. And in so many places.”

Monica smiles at her.

“Want to fuck up here?” she says.

“Yes,” Rachel says.

She squares her shoulders, closes her eyes and concentrates. Behind her, lines of light appear in thin air. Over the course of a handful of seconds, they form into huge wings spreading out from her back, glowing and insubstantial. Many-colored patterns fill them in, like on a butterfly.

“I also want to fuck while flying,” she says.

“I told you,” Monica says. “Not _yet_. You literally got the ability to fly last week! Before we do anything that is likely to make you lose your concentration and make us both plummet to a certain death, I want you to have a lot more experience with the flying. Learning to actually use your power is going to take more time than simply standing in the way of a mad scientist’s weapon and messing it’s firing all up.”

Rachel looks away with an insulted huff.

“Also,” Monica continues, “you need to work on controlling those laser beams you shoot out of your eyes. It’d be really bad if you shot a hole in the ceiling when we make love at home.”

They both fall silent.

“And here I thought the major complication in my life would be dating a woman,” Rachel says.

“Do you want to go back to your old life?” Monica asks.

Rachel thinks about it. Her old life. On-again, off-again with Ross. Boring job. Her entire life centered around her friends’ lives. It wasn’t _bad_ , but... Now? Now she was living in a steady relationship with a female superhero. Now she could _fly_. And also shoot laser beams out of her eyes, but that was less useful than one might first think. She still had her circle of friends, who accepted hers and Monica’s new weirdness. In at least one case, actually was even weirder.

“No,” she says.

She leans over, puts a hand behind her girlfriend’s head and pulls her into a passionate kiss.

“No,” she says. “I wouldn’t give this up for the world.”


End file.
